breathe me
by ohgleegasms
Summary: A story about two best friends who seek to repair their broken hearts find themselves finding love where they last expect it? Cliche? Of course! But oh, who doesn't enjoy some BlackWater lovin?  On pause, hopefully TBC when I get Twilight muse.
1. Chapter 1

_Jacob… come back to us please…_

I sit perched at the edge of the cliff, eyes steadily staring at the seas as they toss and turn restlessly on this chilly spring evening. The sun is slowly dropping from its heightened position within the sky, lazily slipping to slumber as darkness kisses the farthest corners of the earth. It has been two months since I last saw him and my heart aches. Jacob had always been one of my closest friends and he was the only one who truly understood what I was suffering. He knew what it was like to love someone who did not love you back, and I had been angry for weeks that he had left without taking me. As days faded into evenings and weeks melted to months, however, my grudge faded and I was left with the dull reminder of solitude. Sympathetic gazes and forced hugs have lost their luster – they never could erase the pain. A listening ear is impossible to find. I am left alone – I am left with nothing.

The invitation came in the mail a few days ago. I had noticed it on Billy's countertop when I brought him some soup from my mother. White and elegant, defined by lace and femininity – it was so unlike Bella and I knew the pain it roused within both Billy and me. It was a union that brought such dread to our tribe; also a cold reminder of the loss of Jacob Black because of it. How unfair was life? I made no mention of the invitation nor did Billy, but I did wonder if he had somehow found a way to tell Jacob. His name was plastered in calligraphy across the envelope; yet another harsh reminder of the truth. It angered me then, it angers me now. What audacity could Bella possess to be so brash as to invite them? She had been selfish to this point; could a simple invitation heal the pain?

Bitterness engulfs me as I watch the ocean, my wolf form resting in a position where I am lying upon my stomach, head upon my front paws. If anyone else was in wolf form before, my mental musings have driven them elsewhere for I find myself without interruption. I am grateful; as much as I am lonely, I do not wish for more criticism. The pack is exhausted with my mourning – first it was over Sam, now Jacob. The stitches are still lacing my heart together, after what happened with Sam, but the wound is mending, melting together into a whole portion once more. Jacob's departure has not torn the stitching but stretched it slightly – losing my lover had been difficult enough, losing my friend was a blow to the gullet.

_Does he ever think of us anymore? Has he forgotten…forever…?_Dreading the worst – that my paw print upon his timeline has faded to dust – I shudder. I am nothing but a figment of one person's past; can I cope with the notion of being another? I try not to consider this, but the thought refuses to leave my mind. As I wallow in this sulking for well over an hour, I am suddenly bolting upright in shock when someone else pries their way into my thoughts.

_If I didn't know any better, I'd think you'd have lost your best friend._

I freeze, chest stalling as I try to inhale. I am on all fours now, staring at the moon – wondering how I had missed its ascent into the sky. _What? Who…who is that? Seth?_ I am unsure, because it could be anyone. I believe I know, but I dare not think it! It cannot be! But as he responds, I feel my body explode into a joy so foreign to me, I am unsure my throbbing heart can handle it.

_You pine for me yet do not welcome me? I cross the borders undetected; some watchful alpha you serve. _

Leaping into movement, I am running toward the scent that now overpowers me like a tidal wave. Notorious for being the fastest of the pack I focus on tracking, following that familiar scent for which I had been longing. My best friend, could it truly be? Yet as he materializes in the distance, standing within the foggy shadows of dusk, I feel my heart soar, simply soar to the heavens like a free bird. _Jacob, if you are nothing but a dream I dare never wake,_ I growl as we collide, my body never ceasing movement until I hold him in a doggy embrace; chest to chest with my head opposite his. _I am so glad you are back, it has been unbearable dealing with the pack in your absence. I swear to God, you ever do that again I will flay you and feed your manhood to the leeches._ I am growling and almost laughing and completely overwhelmed.

His throat rumbles in deep laughter; a sound I have missed. _I think I will stay then,_ is the response for which I had been dreaming, watching as he pulls away from me, tail wagging nonstop. _I hear there is plenty of excitement to come, though? It cannot be that boring without me._ I bristle at the thought, glancing away. He kids about this – he must know of the invitation, the wedding. How can he be so carefree then? I envy him, and he reaches out to nip my shoulder. _My time away has served me well in clearing my mind; I often thought how nice it would have been for you, perhaps, as well._

I snap back, biting his shoulder far harder than he had plucked mine. _Then you shouldn't have selfishly left me here alone,_ I groan at him. _I was stuck facing Sam alone and everyone would gripe about me mourning him, me mourning you. I would have killed them all if Sam didn't snap at me for thinking such hostilities toward my 'brothers.' _I am clearly irked and my tail no longer wags. I am glad he is back but, as he well knows, a grudge from Leah Cleartwater is not easily erased. _I am glad you are back though, you punk,_ I finally relent, licking the area – just once – where my teeth had marred his skin.

_I am too, actually,_ he admits. _I did not want to come at first, even when Billy contacted me. But – I guess I wanted to prove to everyone that I was okay, that I was mature enough to handle the whole ordeal. I don't deny thinking she's making a huge mistake but who am I to cast that judgment?_ I study him, somewhat impressed. He has grown since he left; physically too, it would appear. The limber wolf before me is in perfect shape. _I almost thought I would return and find you gone_. He admits this and my eyes widen, head tilting to one side.

_Why would you think that? Where on earth would I go?_

_Anywhere but here,_ is his answer. _As terrible as it sounds, I was almost irked to see you were still here, clinging to hope. There is so much beyond La Push, Leah; a world so – extravagant. I think it would help you so much to explore…rather than mourning over how badly Sam hurt you. You deserve better, you deserve more…_

I am almost touched, had he not struck a nerve. _Fine, I'll leave if you cannot handle bearing the burden of my thoughts then. Nobody else can._ I am spitting fire from my eyes, glaring at him before I turn and lunge forward, preparing to run. He is before me, though, in a heartbeat; landing on all fours in my path. We collide and fall to the ground and there is a struggle. As fast as I am, he is stronger and I find myself submitting as he stares into my eyes from a position above me, pinning me to the ground.

_Never, ever think that,_ he tells me finally. _You are no burden to me, my friend. Come, let's go find Billy. He will be elated to see us both I'm sure. He said you've been keeping him company._

I sigh, relieved when he finally lets me get to my feet. Still agitated I snort, but slowly follow his lead as we make our way to the Black residence. Suddenly the night seems a bit bright as I follow the moonlit path in his wake.

_Finally… you are home. _


	2. Chapter 2

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_A/N : As per Blackwater Crazzii's suggestion, I am trying to focus on continuing writing as I normally do, but making Jake and Leah speak as an 'average' person would. xD I'm glad for such pointers, because I tend to get so focused on writing that I sometimes forget what I'm actually __doing__, so I welcome all other constructive criticism. Thanks for the pointers and happy reading! xox  
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Our thoughts are idle as we head toward the Black residence, Jake's focus mainly fixating on his eagerness to see his father. I keep wondering if I am dreaming, expecting to awaken at any moment, but to my delight I do not. When the house comes into view I slow my pace slightly, letting Jake make his presence known first; I feel his father would prefer to see his son than me, whose face has been a familiar sight lately. I hear Jake chuckle slightly as he turns, his wolf gaze staring at me.

_You don't have anything hidden nearby to change into, do you? _I simply stare at him, thinking.

_No, the clothes I had set aside for myself are a few miles up the woods, outside of my own house._ I growl slightly. _Well, I'll head up and get them and come back._ I probably should just go home at this point, but something about Jake inviting me on his homecoming makes me want to stay. I suppose it is a mix of having missed my friend and feeling as though my company is appreciated.

_Nah, don't. Lemme run in and grab you something and I'll set it out here. Just give me a sec._ He vanishes. I remain in the bushes, watching as he phases into human form. Not thinking clearly, I do not think to look away as he emerges from the protection of the shrubs, extracting the clothing from the bundle he had bound to his ankle.

_He's more beautiful than I remember… _I glance away after a moment, realizing I had been gazing at him all the while, with no shame. I am glad he can no longer read my mind – how embarrassing that could have been. And to think, me calling Jake beautiful? What a pathetic show of me being weak and needy. Growling at myself I curl into a slight ball amongst the damp leaves, listening as he and his father enjoy a happy reunion. It is not before long that he returns, tossing a long tee shirt and a pair of boxer shorts into the bushes near to where I am resting.

He calls out to me, "Here you go Leah, join us when you're decent!" His tone is light-hearted, teasing. I chuckle deep in my throat before I phase, hidden by the bushes that surround me. I find the clothes and slip into them, paying no heed to my surroundings – obliviously unaware that he has paused for but a brief second on the porch, casting his gaze back to catch my bare back, turned to him, as I change. The shirt comes to my mid-thighs and the boxers are sagging slightly, but I let it go – easier than running home and returning. After casually running my right hand through my hair I enter the Black house and go over to give Billy a hug.

He beams. "My son has come home!" he declares, as though I have not heard the news. Jake rolls his eyes at me but smiles nonetheless. Billy continues to tell him, "Leah came to visit while you were gone, Jacob. All the time, she took good care of me, didn't you?"

I laugh. "I did the best I could, but you didn't leave me much to work with," I state accusingly at Jake, winking at Billy. "What a mess; this man does not understand dishes or laundry or cooking! How could you be so cold as to abandon him?" Jake looks at ease, however, amidst our jesting and he shrugs slightly.

"Guess it's 'bout time you learned pops," he tells Billy, Cheshire grin plastering itself to his features. "Then again, guess you didn't learn much if Leah was doing it all for you. There spoils my plans of having you wait on me now!"

Billy laughs boisterously, clearly elated at his son's return. "I'll wait on you, but you might not want to eat anything I cook. But Leah, here, she's a great cook; kept me in line. Might want her to coddle you instead, Jacob, she's turning out to be a fine lady. Shame for Sam," he begins, then realizing his folly a bit too late. He freezes, his mouth still gaping with his next proposed word, and I try not to let tears prick my eyes.

Reaching down, I pat his hand. "It's okay Billy," I say quietly, but I cannot speak another word. I fear my quavering voice might betray my emotions. "I'm glad you have Jacob back; I should probably get going home." The mood has suddenly dropped and I entirely blame myself. Why can't I just let go already? I move to the door, turning to glance over my shoulder at Jake, who looks both devastated and irked. "I'm glad you're home, tomorrow I'm gonna beat your ass for leaving," I state, breaking the mold of Billy's perfect lady description.

But he moves too, closer to me. "Dad, I'll walk Leah home and then when I get back we'll chat about life, I wanna hear all the latest news," he informs Billy before closing the gap between us entirely, opening the front door and motioning for me to lead the way.

Billy half-smiles, though I see sadness in his eyes. "Yup, sure thing. 'Night Leah and – um – sorry."

I force a cool laugh, "Don't be, Billy. It's fine. I prefer waiting on you to Sam anyway."

The lie lingers in the air then dies as Jacob closes the door behind us. The moment it swings closed, I feel the lump in my throat begin to rise and tears sting my eyes. He says nothing, merely taking ahold of my right arm with his hand, gently guiding me toward the path through the woods that leads me home.

We make it barely fifteen yards from the porch before I begin to sob.


	3. Chapter 3

"Damnit Jake, I'm so sorry," I gasp as he leads me to a fallen log just beyond the treeline. I sit on it, feeling him settle beside me. "I – ugh I hate this," I gripe. "I swear, some days I'm just fine with it and then the next day I'm a hot mess over all of it. You'd think after a year I'd just forget."

I glance into his eyes and see his familiar smile; somehow it puts me at ease, albeit only slightly. "Leah, nobody just forgets overnight," he gently reminds me. "You were ready to marry him for God's sake. It's not like you can just wake up the next day and be like, 'Yup new day, new life,' and be better. Especially when you gotta see him everyday." He shrugs. "I've got it easy, I only see Bella when I want to. Sam can run you down whenever he damn feels like it and we're too bound to say no."

Sighing, I nod. "It's true," I agree, "I cannot escape unless I leave." Silent, I ponder this a moment. Jacob left, why should I be bound here to this hell? As though he can read my mind, I feel his hand on my shoulder as he speaks again.

"I think your family would understand," he says gently. I shake my head.

"Are you kidding? I gotta be in the damn wedding?"

He scowls at this. "Damn selfish of her to ask you, if you ask me."

I hadn't asked him, but I could not help but agree with him. "I know, it sucks. How could I say no? But what would make me wanna say yes?" My nose crinkles at the thought. Of course, Emily had the best intentions and I knew that; she had been one of my best friends when we were kids. In her heart, she felt that being included might help me to feel less out of place. In truth, it makes me feel it more so; but who am I to reject her? It would break her heart if I said no and I knew, deep down, that she had never wanted to hurt me. Understanding now the pack mechanism and quirks, I know that even if she had resisted, eventually it would have come to pass.

His arm slips lightly around my waist and though I wish to recoil, I do not. Something about his warmth is soothing. "You're a good person, Leah, that's why you said yes. You wanna make Emily happy." He's right, and he knows it. We are silent as I think this over, my sobbing fading into sniffling, tears drying to my cheeks. We stay there quietly for a few moments before he squeezes my left hip, guiding me to my feet. "Let's get you home before Momma Clearwater gets worried."

Realizing that it is probably fairly late, I get to my feet and nod. "Yeah, last thing she needs," I murmur; she had been worried about me more and more since Jake had left, and I needn't make it worse by never returning home tonight. She has been waiting up lately; no doubt she is now. I except him to release me once I am steady but he does not and together we walk, his arm around my waist, my arms folded over my chest. I feel almost awkward – as though I should physically react with a similar gesture.

But it all feels too familiar, yet his face is not the one I associate with embraces. Thus I stay to myself and soon, he retracts; likely sensing the tension in my limbs. I hate being so rigid, I hate being so… stubborn.

The full moon lights our path and as we get about half way to my house, he stops and lightly grabs my wrist. I pause and glance to his eyes, my expression quizzical, though I do not ask. If he is listening for something, I dare not interrupt; instead, I listen too. Hearing nothing, I finally relent. "What?"

He grins slightly. "I missed you too," he murmurs. That's all; he continues to walk now, leaving me to stand, riveted. Where the hell did that come from? I cannot help but wonder. I pick up my pace and jog alongside of him again, giving him a sideways glance of skepticism.

"Why?" I ask suddenly. My look is imploring and I wish he would stop moving, but he continues to walk.

"Well," he begins, "you've always been a good friend to me. I was aching and felt it best to leave here. But I thought so often of you; wished I could talk to you. You're the only one who really understands, the only one who would ever stop to listen. Inside that cynical bitch exterior I know there's a heart."

I scowl slightly. "No there's not," I argue obstinately, arms folding over my chest again. But as he continues to smile, I cannot hold up my masquerade forever. "Well, maybe only a little bit. But let's not tell anyone."

He laughs, shaking his head. "Leah Clearwater, you're impossible!" he exclaims. I roll my eyes and we continue walking, chatting about nonsense, until we reach my house. I stumble upon my clothes that are waiting for me and take them in my hand.

"Let me change, you can have these back," I offer, motioning to the clothes I'm wearing. But he shakes his head.

"No worries, I'll come by tomorrow and get them," he says. He then turns and hugs me, a back-breaking hug that would likely kill your average person. "I missed you, I'm glad you don't entirely hate me for leaving," he whispers. Then before I even realize it, he's gone and I am alone.

Alone – as I have been for so many nights.

But I smile, vaguely, holding my clothes in one hand as I stand still for a moment, savoring the flavor of the dark night.  
And for now, I don't feel it – I don't feel so alone.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N : This chapter makes reference to one of my other stories, beauty in the breakdown. I guess I should have mentioned sooner that reading that might make a few details less hazy. But it's really not a huge deal at all; just a few minor overlaps and things.  


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It is rounding noon when I finally wake, feeling rested and revived. I make haste to spring from bed and dress – having slept in Jacob's clothing all night, letting the scent of him lull me to sleep – before retreating to the kitchen. The fresh smell of baking bread greets me, as does my mother's smiling face. "I heard you come in late last night," she comments, swatting my hand with a spatula as I swipe a slice of her bread. "That's for Billy!" she snips, trying to snatch it from me. I bite off a piece and grin foolishly, chewing and swallowing before I answer her.

"Oh, he doesn't need doting anymore anyway," I contradict, "Jake came home last night."

She is so deep in her shock that she does not acknowledge me slipping another piece of bread from the counter. "Did he? And that is why you were so late then?"

I narrow my eyes at her tone. "Yes, I was with him and Billy, celebrating. It's nice to have my only friend back, you know." I chew the bread and turn away from her, because I don't like the expression she has on her face.

"Good friend? And that's all? He's such a nice boy, Leah."

I growl and spin around to face her. "And that's all he is going to be, mom! Let's face it, I'm not going to be with anyone else for a good long time, maybe never! I'm a monster, a werewolf for God's sake! Even Dad couldn't handle that!" The words leave my lips before I can control myself, but I instantly regret them. I lean back against the counter, sighing softly as I watch her face crumple. She tries to speak, but I shake my head. "I'm sorry mom," I say quietly, "I didn't mean it… like that." Though really I did, because it was true; my father died of a heart attack over the shock of me phasing. I was a female, not a male; I was not supposed to have this curse. I am abnormal, more so than the rest of the pack anyway, the outsider, the oddball, the anomaly. Yet I cannot continue taking it out on her. I am the harpy, the crude one; with my luck I'll be Emily's maid for the rest of my life. Maybe Billy's too. But my mother does not deserve to agonize more than she already has; she needs no suffering for my own bitterness' sake.

She sighs softly, right hand reaching out to touch my hair. "Leah, I always prayed that you would be so happy," she whispers. "I don't understand what it happened but I know it won't be this way forever." I bristle, agitated. Why pump me up with false hope? I bite my tongue so hard that it bleeds, fighting the urge to lash out at my mother. _I cannot make her endure more pain… I will not cause it; have I not caused enough? _I tried to kill myself, Sam finally told her a few weeks later. I remember now the pain in her eyes – so vividly I recall it – and I cannot bear to see that again. He had no right to tell her, we had been paving the road to friendship before he opened his mouth. Now we are back at the start, back in hell.

It is as though I can truly trust no one.

Hugging her suddenly, perhaps tighter than I should have for her fragile human frame, I feel connected to her. "You've always been the greatest mother a girl could ask for," I tell her. "Don't be miserable on account of me, Ma. You know I'm tough, I'll be fine." We pull away from the embrace and she nods, but I see it in her eyes – doubt. I know what is on her mind without her breathing a word of it; she knows I am strong, stronger now than before, anyway. Yet this is also her biggest fear, for my obstinacy creates a blockade between myself and the world. I am perhaps my most vicious enemy, but my walls will not be torn down – by her or anyone else. I prefer to be safeguarded rather than vulnerable, and this concerns her.

She lets it go, however. Leaning in, she kisses me on the cheek then pulls away to smile into my face. "I love you Leah," she murmurs. "I will not lose faith, I pray you don't either. And if you steal another piece of my bread I will have you over my knee and whack you one."

We both laugh now as we try to envision the image she presents. "I love you too Ma," I tell her, sneaking a sideways glance at the bread that remains. "And your homemade bread too, come on Billy doesn't need that much starch!"

She shakes her head at me, handing me one final piece of bread. "There, and I'm wrapping the rest up for the Blacks. Take it over for me, won't you darling?" She's the only one to whom I show so much affection – though I love both her and Seth deeply, his interactions with me are a bit different. I safeguard them both to the best of my ability and it is my honor to do so. It is, in my mind, perhaps my only purpose on earth – therefore I take it quite seriously. To so many girls their mom may be their 'best friend' but with Ma, it was undeniably true. Far later in my life, I will come to respect that even more than I do today, for I often take it for granted as time stands.

Once she wraps her bread, she hands it to me and shoos me out the door, adding that I should bid greeting to Billy and Jacob for her. I agree and promise, at her request, to tell Jacob he must visit her soon. Then I make my way through the yard, directing myself toward the path that leads to the Black house – through the woods and along the dunes. So entranced am I in my venture that I do not hear her whisper as I stride away from her.

"My precious Leah; open your eyes and see what is before you. Perhaps all you seek is standing right before your face and you dno't even realize it."

But obliviously I carry forth in my journey and she soon returns to the kitchen, trying to ignore the dull aching in her heart – caused not by, but for her only daughter.


	5. Chapter 5

I relish the solitude as I walk through the woods, the songs of robins proposing the only interruption to my serenity. So joyously their melodies resonate across the forest; deafening in their pronunciation of warbling enthrallment. But me, bitter Leah Clearwater, I find their songs distracting. In the depths of my clouded, jaded mind I almost consider them to be nagging and too proud – as though rubbing it in the world's face that they are carefree and careless while the rest of us endure trials. Why jeer so boldly, in such vanity? It is so trivial, I suppose, to be angered by notions of birds – whose brains cannot capacitate their actions wholly, as mine can – yet it is what I do in my spare time. I seek those little things in life that may be ignored by most – going unnoticed for years – and nitpick. What more can I do in my spare time, really?

By the time I reach the Black residence I am so irked by the spring sounds that I find myself wishing for winter. It is, without doubt, my favorite month. I, unlike normal humans, do not suffer the cold, which is one positive note. Plus, seeing the world so dead around me makes me feel less alone – which is hypocritical, perhaps, seeing the solitude and vastness of winter. I suppose it is because I can relate; the withering, the draining, the fading. What better month is there to suit one of such cold detestation as myself?

Without yet reaching the porch of the Black residence the door opens and Jacob's smiling face is in opposition to my own scowl. "Hey Leah," he bellows in a tone far too chipper for my own liking, and I find myself grimacing. But I do not even gain the opportunity to respond before his hands are prying, poking at the bundle I carry. "What's this? You missed me so much you made me food? Damn, Dad wasn't even kidding!"

Yanking the bread from his reach, I growl. "Give it a rest, the bread is for your dad from my mom. He likes it too much to share readily, maybe go practice yoru tricks a little. You know, sit, stay, behave? Good doggie gets a treat," I snap before pushing past him, not entirely sure why my hostility is being aimed at him. Yet for the moment it seems so appropriate. Billy is sitting in his chair – naturally – in front of the TV, staring at commercials as they blaze across the screen. "Hey Billy, Ma sent some fresh baked bread for you. Want me to get you a few pieces before Jake eats it all?" I ask him, trying to lift my mood – or at least, my tone – slightly.

His eyes finally meet mine, tearing away from the sight of a McDonald's Big Mac – something he should not even consider eating. "Oh, hey Leah. Yeah, sure, that would be great. Thank your mom for me, she's been too nice." I note the impish twinkle in his eye and I force myself not to recoil or retch. Between Billy and Charlie, my mom has become a shiny new toy; her generosity making her appear all the more enticing by the minute. It sickens me, for multiple reasons, causing both jealousy and hostility to burn inside of my aching heart. How far should it be that she finds herself two suitors and I am estranged from the world? However my father has been barely gone for a year, how cruel and cold could she be to entertain herself with such atrocities? Biting my tongue for the second time today, though, I focus on preparing two pieces of bread with jelly for Billy before tossing a piece at Jacob's head.

"Here you go, mutt," I mutter at him, not appeased that he merely smiles in return before devouring the bread in one bite. I wish I could regret being so snappy after having missed him so dearly. But last night he had caught me in a mournful mood; today I find myself more volatile. Keep your PMS comments to yourself, thank you.

Serving Billy his bread, he glances up and smiles at me. "Thanks again Lee. Hey, since you're here, you want to help Jake for me? I asked him to go down to catch some fish for supper; I'm thinking we can have a fish fry tonight and bring your mom and brother?"

The temptation to roll my eyes is severe, but I instead grimace. "Fry? Billy you know my mother will not stand for that. We will _grill_ the fish and by we I assume you won't be cooking." I don't ask, I tell. First of all, the idea of frying fish would give my mother a heart attack. A true 'natural' Native, she prefers to use methods that are – to say the least – slightly more feral. If Seth and I did not argue we would eat outside, cooking over a fire made from rubbing sticks together until they ignite. Settling on compromise, she uses the kitchen and civilized table-things, but uses all natural products. She spends more time gathering herbs than I do griping about the pack – which might tell you something. And secondly, Billy could burn cereal – cold, from a box – if he put his mind to it. "Let me call her, if that's alright to use your phone, then I'll go help Jacob," I state, already on my way into the kitchen.

One phone call is all she needed, and my mother's voice is back to its chipper soprano, full of life. She agrees, of course, and states she must go to prepare other food as we fish. I try to state that it may be easier to host at our house but she vehemently insists we will eat at the Black's tonight, then hangs up without another word.

Left to my own devices – what else is new? – I cast my gaze to Jake, who is polishing off his sixth slice of bread. "God, did you leave any for your father?" I ask him, shooting a disgusted glance at the mess of crumbs that he's dropped all over the table. Scowling I stalk over and brush them into the palm of my hand, then dumping them in the trash can. "Just what your dad wants, ants all over the house."

He beams, though, as though glad I paid him some heed. I want so badly to wring his neck or slap that stupid ass grin right off his face. "Two pieces left for him, he won't eat more than that today." Today? Did he think we were a delivery bakery now? "And we won't get ants, I was gonna lick that clean myself," he taunts, trying to get a rise out of me.

But I refuse to give him the privilege. I bite my tongue – third time within an hour's time, you better be impressed – and shake my head at him. "Let's go get some fish," is all I finally utter, hoping that a nice day by the water might ease my mood a bit.

Contrary to popular belief, I do not like being such a bitter bitch; really, I don't. I wish with all my heart that I could be happy and gaily frolic carelessly like other girls – hell, even guys – my age. Such minor things, such as my mom's prodding about Jacob of the songs of robins in springtime, set me off – I cannot find a balance. But I struggle in changing myself, perhaps because secretly I don't want to, because being cold is better than being vulnerable. Yet, all the while, I wish I could be, for once in my life, _normal_.

The grass is _always_ greener on the other side, after all.


	6. Chapter 6

Twenty minutes later I am walking beside Jacob – each of us with a fishing rod resting upon one shoulder – feeling relieved that the robin's songs have been replaced by sea gull cries. He swings a small cooler with his left hand, likely jostling the bait and other nonsense; I say nothing. In all honesty, I almost feel irked that I am the one Billy requests to go fishing with Jake, because I take it as a personal reflection upon their views of me. Am I worth nothing but serving as an errand boy? In my heart, somewhere, I know that it isn't true; he wants me to feel included and knows Jake does not mind my company. But to one who agonizes so often as myself? Though my pains are self-inflicted, I still take it far too personally for my own good. This exclusively brings me to be silent as we walk together along the dunes.

Finally, he breaks the silence. "I thought you were happy I came back."

I glance at him, furrowing my brows. "What?"

He returns my glance, eyes rolling in annoyance. "You heard me the first time, I know you're not deaf."

I pause. "What?" This brings no smile to his lips, to my frustration – or disdain, I'm not sure which – and I choose wisely my words. "I am glad you are not wandering around in the wilderness anymore, John the Baptist." It isn't exactly a good crack, but it's something less harsh than the words that dance along my sharp tongue. When he says nothing, I shrug. "Why wouldn't I be glad you're back?"

Now it is his turn to think for a moment. "I don't know, you seemed angry to see me today. Like I interrupted your daily visits with Billy. He's so glad you've been visiting, you know, he bragged about it nonstop last night. Seems you all did well without me."

Part of me wants to slap him. Is he serious? Billy only spoke of Jake on my visits, and he had given up all hope a long time ago. Yet he prayed, as did my mother (as did I, though I tell no one of this) for Jake's return. I also feel a portion of myself cringing in guilt; my earlier words and actions had not provoked him to physically portray any negative reaction, yet he is now sulking. _Such a stupid, selfish bitch you are. _"Look, I'm sorry Jake," I begin slowly. "I just – I don't know. Wasn't having a good morning. I didn't mean to take it out on you." Actually, I had; his smiling face, his positivism despite his heartbreak, is almost as frustrating as the birds' songs. Not that it is a fair justification, but we have already established my sense of rationality.

"Okay," he says simply, shrugging. "I just thought maybe it was better without me here."

Fighting an outburst, I grit my teeth and then attempt to speak. "Don't be stupid Jake. Having you here is a bigger blessing than you might ever realize." Sure, that is convincing; the snarling half-grin and strained words that sputter forth from my lips. But he oddly seems to accept it – perhaps knowing me far too well, more than I wish he did – and nods. His demeanor then shifts to light-hearted once more and as we finally reach a secluded, calm portion of the water he sets down the cooler.

"This place looks good, right?" he asks. "Tidepools will be nice to cool our feet as we wait."

I glance around us and nod; it's better than we'll do anywhere else. The surf is calmer here, meaning less likely to disrupt the fish and frighten them into the deeper seas. A few large rocks dot the area; most half-submerged by the lulling sea. They'll be great points from which we can fish. "Looks good," I verbally agree, in case he doubts my nodding acceptance. We both sit for a moment, busying ourselves with unwinding fishing line and selecting bait. I slip a few pieces into a small baggie, seal it, then move behind a large rock. "Stay there," I instruct him, stripping down and phasing into wolf form – but not before I ensure that my shorts and bathing suit top are tied to my ankle. I leave the shirt behind – at least I can tan while I'm out here.

Trotting out from behind the rock, he stares at me, clearly confused. However, not about to swim through the surf – although mild – in my human form, I take my rod and bait in my mouth (trying not to think about the fact of how disgusting this is, baggie or not) and then back up a few paces. Taking a running start I leap and manage to land clinging to the side of one of the large rocks – the closest one – and scramble to the top. Hardly graceful but what do I care? I then glance back, realizing that however ideal this had seemed at the time, I was now on a stage in plain sight – left to be a canine or be naked. He doesn't seem to get the evil glare I give him, so I sigh and phase; lying as close to the rock as I can.

Though it's impossible for him not to see me, I pretend this does not bother me and slip on my shorts and bikini top with subtle speed. I dare not look as though I'm ashamed; he can't know that weakness of self-consciousness within me. Oblivious to his entranced stare I manage to dress and settle on the rock with my feet dangling over the edge, refusing to meet his gaze. After a few moments of me fiddling with untangling my line again, he calls out to me. "That was impressive; I think I might have to follow your lead." I merely flash him a superior smile and then go about putting bait on my hook.

I do not notice him leaping – now in wolf form – until his body collides with a rock that is a few yards from mine. I glance upward then, admiring the manner by which he maintains his balance and remains upright. He then phases back to his human form – naturally not shy as opposed to my faking it – and I do not realize I am staring until he slips on his shorts. I flush and glance away before he can notice; mentally chastising myself. How crude could I be? He is just like every other male of the pack – all of whom refuse to care about my presence when they phrase – ripped, perfectly built and beautifully tanned. Nothing separates him from the others.

Yet in my silence I continue to wonder, picturing him over and over in my mind. How had I never noticed before yesterday – and now today – how simply beautiful he is? Shaking the thought from my head I focus on the fishing endeavors at hand; I have no time to waste on such petty ponderings. Vulnerability does not suit me and lust only carves within our hearts an intensely exposed state. Hooking a piece of bait I stand and then cast, settling back against the rock to soak up some sun.

Within my mind, though, his image never fades; that perfectly sculpted physique…truest perfection.


	7. Chapter 7

After an hour passes we decide to take a short break, growing stiff from our positions upon the rocks. He has caught four and I have managed three, so we are grateful that it is not in vain. The tide is now ebbing, though, meaning we will have to recalculate tactics for our second round. I decide to leave my rod on the rock for now and wade through the knee-deep water toward shore. I glance around and realize my shirt is no longer where I had hidden it, but I am unconcerned. I have my bathing suit top; there is no use in hunting for it amongst the dunes, to where it has probably blown.

Jake soon joins me on the shore and he smiles, noting the bucket that is half-filled with our fish. "Good stuff," he comments, nodding. "They'll feed an army."

I laugh, shaking my head. "Not the way you and Seth eat," I argue, though I am now grinning. It would seem that being here has lightened my mood at least somewhat. "But it's a good start. It's only about two now, we will have enough time to get a few more if we're lucky."

He nods, dropping his fishing rod on the sand. "I'm glad to be off that rock, my ass was killing me," he admits and I nod in agreement. It's odd, because I feel so awkward with him. Once things were so easy but since his return, I don't know what to say. We used to commiserate together and now? He's so happy-go-lucky; it's almost like being with Seth. I feel out of place if I speak any words of what's on my mind; as though I may poison his contentment. I know nothing but how to voice complaints, so it would seem these days, therefore I resort to not speaking. In an attempt to avoid any further awkward moments of my eerie silence, I retreat to the sun and sprawl out on the sand – lying on my back – soaking in a few rays while I savor the relaxation of my tense muscles.

Acute hearing picks up his footsteps as they approach, his body resting beside mine. I peer over at him and he is mimicking my actions, stretching languidly across the white dune. A vague smile comes across my lips and we are silent, relishing the sun's rays and our peaceful coexistence.

"You think the rest of the pack will be mad that I've come back?"

His question breaks the silence and catches me off guard and I roll onto my side to look at him. "You've gotta be kidding. Why would they be?" I ask.

Considering, he is silent a moment. "Well they all know that Sam's not of alpha lines, and people resent me standing up for myself against anyone, especially him, yanno?" I do know, I know exactly what he means. Though I am less of a threat to the alpha ranking – it runs in my blood but I am a female – it is strongly frowned upon to be so bold against the claimed alpha. It does not stop me from voicing my opinion openly and often, but the others grow tired of it.

"Who cares if they do then?" I state coldly. "They're all just jealous that you aren't pussy-whipped." It's probably true; Jacob has the nerve to stand up for his beliefs and he has not imprinted. He is freer than most of them in more ways than one.

He laughs at this. "Yeah, but I guess I see their point. Sam's a good alpha."

I cringe. I don't think he is, and I know Jacob would be a better one. But I can't really say that without sounding entirely bias. So I don't touch the subject. "People just need a reason to bitch," I say pointedly. "They whine when you leave, whine when you come back, it's not like there's ever any pleasing anybody."

Nodding, he chuckles. "True, but I would rather not cause a fight over something so… stupid." So like Jake – not wanting to rouse undue commotion over himself and his own personal business. Though in a pack nothing is personal, with everyone else in your head, yet I find it respectable. I never take anyone into consideration when I do or say anything. Not that I'm necessarily proud of it, but – well – you do what you've got to do.

"Whatever," I say finally. "They can deal. They've got better shit to worry about anyway, vampires and all. One more pack member just makes us stronger."

We are both silent, thinking about this. I wonder what is on his mind, as mine dances with visions of bloodsuckers and wars. I envision bloodshed, pain, death – I imagine my own death. Not in vain, not suicide, truly; more noble. I imagine myself risking my life for someone else, to save them. Maybe Jacob, or Seth, or even Sam. Just leaving behind my paw print, a stamp of my legacy, so people could remember and say, 'Oh yeah, the only female of the pack. Sure, she spared her life to save his, what a noble woman.' Sure it's conceited and proud and selfish, but what other purpose do I possess? Maybe then people could forget that I am an oddity and drop the Sam issue and focus on my puffed up bravado and lack of fear.

Or… something.

So lost am I in contemplation that I do not realize he is moving, shifting himself, until he speaks again. "I know you don't wanna hear it or anything," he starts and my eyes flash open, shooting him a warning gaze. He either misses it or ignores it, and continues. "I did miss you though; I was worried. You know, I heard – yeah – about what happened. I should have been here to stop you, protect you, something. I kept telling myself that you wouldn't have tried to – you know – do it – if I had been here."

Suicide. Oh yes, just what I want to discuss. "Don't flatter yourself," I snap at him, bolting upright. I am on my feet before I realize it. "I wanted to do it and I still do. Nobody gives a rat's ass anyway. It'll happen, sooner or later, and nobody can stop me. Nobody can stop fate. Might not happen how I want it to but I'll make sure it does. We have enough battles coming up soon, enough danger. And not even _you_ can protect me."

I've said far too much and as I clam up I turn, storming away from him while I seethe with anger. I angrily plop down on a sand dune a few hundred yards down the beach, back facing him as I feel hot tears streaming down my cheeks. Idly my fingers trace scars that don't truly exist; jagged lines upon my wrists that only I see. In my mind, I apologize. _I'm sorry I'm such a failure_…

But I reality, I say nothing – I am alone.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: First of all, quick note. Thanks for all your reviews! Though my FF is glitching on me and I can't click to see all 17 reviews, I have read them via e-mail notifications. I appreciate all commentary you give! But a few comments in response to reviews:

I agree; NOBODY is worth pining over for so long. LMAO. Damn you Samuel anyway! What the hell is wrong with her? But sadly, I know people who've pined even longer over worthless people. –sigh- Hopefully Leah'll come to her senses soon!

I also would like to smack Billy sometimes. :3 He and Sue do intend the best, even if they don't always go about the best way…

Leah Bella, any day. ;) In my little world, anyway; I'm sure I could find those who would argue. (Shame they are wrong! jkjk!)

Definitely never is input considered misdirection; not in my book anyway! Interesting twist you're considering Chi. You'll have to keep reading to see how things progress. ^^ (/shameless plug, I apologize)

Anyway, thanks for reading – loyal followers, reviewers and passersby. I truly appreciate it. I am sorry for the delay, too, I had been keeping so steadily to updating as often as possible but weekends are so busy for me lately. I will try not to disappoint this week, though, as we continue to progress.

Happy reading and much thanks! xox

* * *

Reality sucks.

I hear him before I can feel his hand upon my shoulder and though I wish to, I do not shoulder it away; rather I lean against his touch slightly. My gaze refuses to meet his as he settles beside me, slipping his arm around my waist. "I hate seeing you like this," he murmurs. "It's hypocritical, maybe, but nobody is worth dying for; not like that anyway." He is quiet a moment. "There was a time I thought dying for valor would prove to Bella that I was the better choice, sting that she was too late. I realize now that I was meant for so much more, and you are too." I sniffle slightly, unable to respond. My head shakes but he interrupts. "No, don't even try to argue, Leah. You are wonderful. I wish you would have some faith. There's a fighter in there, in front of anyone else she is visible. You are that strong, independent woman – you aren't just pretending. You just gotta find her when you're alone, yanno?"

No objection can be offered, because deep down I know he's right – about everything. I am that fighter when I have to be, I drop my guard when nobody is watching. Or, rather, when I think nobody is watching. It is my mindset, though, that creates this; I could be strong if I convinced myself to be such. I am far too obstinate for my own good. I feel slightly bitter as he speaks, though, knowing his own miseries over Bella. But somehow, I feel challenged, compelled. If he can get over her, why can I not move on from Sam?

Biting down upon my lower lip, I finally subject myself to nodding my agreement. "I want to be that person all the time," I admit to him, glancing into his eyes for the first time since he has settled beside me. _Then why is it so hard to be her?_ I cannot fight this mental question, nor can I give an answer to it. Studying his face a moment, I exhale. "Maybe leaving is how I have to do it," I murmur. "But leaving Sue… my heart breaks at the thought."

Nodding slightly, his grip on my waist tightens and it is only then that I am aware of his touch to my bare skin. "I understand, I hated leaving Billy," he says. He leaves it at that, and I burn with annoyance at the hanging statement. _But Billy survived with you caring for him._ I think to myself, completing his unspoken statement. However, I do not trust that Seth, Jacob or Billy could ease my mother's aching soul were I to vanish. She has already lost my father.

Sighing, I shrug. "I will just have to do it, here and now." I refrain from saying anything else, because there is nothing left to say. I don't even know where to begin with letting go; but I have to find a way. Leaving is no option for me, and seeing Sam will not make it easy. But I must do it, to save myself.

"That's my girl," he says to me, chuckling as he runs his fingers along my backbone. I am aware of the movements but do not look away from his gaze as I soak in the words he speaks to me. His girl? Something within me clicks and I feel almost tempted to pull away, yet his gaze lures me in slightly.

A smile finds its way across my lips; the first genuine smile I've displayed in awhile. My breath catches in my throat as I feel him leaning slightly closer, watching his head tilt in the direction opposite mine. Our noses touch and I can feel his warmth emanating from him. His lips twitch slightly as he hesitates, then inches closer; his grip upon my waist tightening. We are only a hairsbreadth apart before I feel a burning in my throat, my lungs; fire devouring me. I jerk myself away from him, slipping – as consequence – downward slightly upon the sand dune. My legs curl themselves to me as I draw my knees to my chest and embrace them slightly, shaking my head. "Sorry I – I just," I begin.

"No," he interrupts, sliding himself down to my side once more, pressing a finger against my lips as he hops in front of me almost instantly. "Don't you dare say another word of apology, that was my fault and I shouldn't have tried."

Silence as I stare into his eyes, tingling lips burning against his index finger; wishing I had the strength to… for just one…

But he is already on his feet, still smiling – which I find odd – as he prances down the beach a ways. "Let's get back to fishing, right? We need a bit more food to serve this pack of wolves," he teases, winking before he strips down, in front of my very eyes, grabs his clothes and fishing pole in his mouth and begins leaping through the low tide's small pools, making his way toward another set of rocks that jut into the higher risen tide.

I pause, then get to my feet, brushing the sand from my rear as I watch him move so majestically; my mind is left in a flurry as I slowly trail in his wake.


	9. Chapter 9

By the time I reach the rock where I have left my fishing pole, I can already see Jacob dressing himself as he stands upon a rock that is surrounded by slightly higher waters than the tidepools that surround our former spot. I remove my clothing and take it in my mouth along with my own fishing pole and begin to trot toward where he is sitting. He sits upon a much larger rock that stands in solitude, so I find myself wading with my head held high, leaping up beside him. I shake myself to ensure he gets covered in water, chuckling my doggie laugh before making my way to the opposite edge. I change again, glancing over my shoulder before I do – he is watching the sea. Thus I phase back and put on my clothes again, settling down in my place.

Then, I groan. "I didn't bring any bait." He glances over his shoulder at me, as though ensuring I am dressed, before he turns fully to face me.

"Well shit," he says, "I was sittin' here hoping you had grabbed some, because I hadn't."

We both start laughing and I shake my head. "Well, clearly we have planned this out well," I state, wrinkling my nose slightly. Glancing around us, I then get an idea. I abandon my rod, leaving it in the middle of the rock, before poising myself and performing a shallow dive into the water. Jacob, struck by curiosity, is peering over the edge of the rock at me when I resurface.

"Have you gone mad?" he asks me, arching a brow; though his smile is that of amusement.

Shaking my head I dive under the water and phase – might I add, not exactly an easy task, and when I resurface I am in wolf form, finding paddling much easier. I leap back onto the rock and shake myself off on him, staring down at the waters patiently. Overwhelmed by my lack of explanation he soon phases too, bringing himself into my world.

_What the hell are you doing? _

_Shh, Jake, you'll scare the fish. _

_You do realize you just lost your clothes, right?_

I hadn't thought of that, but it was a bit late to reconsider. _I'm telling you, you'll scare the fish_, I warn.

He glares at me. _What fish? You don't really plan on catching them like this do you? We could go back and get bait!_

_And then we'd be naked on a rock with bait and fishing poles. Great idea._

He is silent as he considers this. I catch a glimpse of a memory and I stare at him, growling slightly.

_You peeked!_

_You stripped in front of me. You saw me too._

_You did nothing to hide yourself, Jake. You're all high and mighty like you have something to flaunt._

His turn to growl as he nips my shoulder. _You liked it._

_I like a lot of things, like fish,_ I think. Then without warning I leap into the waters, pouncing upon a shadow that my gaze has landed upon and has been studying. My jaws barely miss sinking into its tender flesh, and I resurface in annoyance. _Damn_.

_I gotta admit I'm impressed Lee-lee, that was close. _

I wince slightly but don't address it, returning to my place on the rock. We study the waves together until I spy another shadow and leap downward, jaws parted. Though I come up with a mouthful of salt water, my teeth are also gripping a large, struggling bluefish and when I return to my place on the rock, my tail is wagging. _Perfect!_

_Okay, now you're showin' me up. I'm gonna try while you put that one in the bucket. _

I leap from the rock and trot over to shore, dropping the fish with the rest of the ones we have caught thus far. When I turn again to face the direction from which I have come, I see Jacob paddling toward me with a smaller blue between his teeth. _Mine's bigger,_ I taunt, nipping his shoulder – taking advantage of his vulnerability – before I paddle back to our spot; ready for another round.

An hour and a half later, we have filled our bucket with enough fish to (hopefully) feed our two families and I find myself, still in canine form, lounging on the rock while watching the sea. _You know_, I tell him, _this is the most fun I've had in awhile. _

He laughs slightly – a gruff canine-hinted rumbling in his chest. _First time I've seen you happy in awhile,_ is his response.

Silence as I remember the almost-kiss, glad there is no awkwardness. He winces and I shake my head. _Don't, _is all I say.

Side-by-side we stare at the ocean, thoughts swirling together; wondering the same one question… what if? 


	10. Chapter 10

The rumbling of Jacob's stomach is what rouses me from my silence.

Eyes flicker their gaze to his, suddenly remembering that we had come to get fish for _dinner_. We likely should have gone home at least a half hour ago, but I harbor no regret. Tail flicks as I get to my feet and shake myself, glancing to him. _We should get back so mom can clean the fish before she grills them,_ I tell him.

He nods, then pauses as he slowly rises to his feet. _How are we getting home?_

Momentarily confused, I glance at him quizzically. _We walked here, don't tell me your paws are tired._

A laughing sound leaves his throat. _No, but we walked here clothed. Don't you think it's a bit suspicious if we both go home naked?_

Realizing, remembering, our dilemma I pause and sit back down, staring at the cooler, bucket of fish and two fishing rods. Considering, I stand in front of the bucket and grasp the handle in my mouth. _I can carry this_, I state, though it weighs me down quite a bit. Glancing back at the rest I consider what is most important.

_I'll get the rest_, he stubbornly insists and I watch as he picks up both rods, daintily trying not to crack them with his teeth, before biting down upon the cooler handle. His bundle is lighter, yet more cumbersome, than my own. _We will go to my house, I'll get us clothes then we can drive to your ma's. Won't take us but a minute._

Nodding my agreement, we set forth on a slower venture home than we would have liked; my height in wolf form prevents the bucket from dragging on the ground, but it precariously dangles about my forelegs and my knees continuously knock against it. Each step brings about wincing as I continue to move, a little agitated with myself for having destroyed another pair of shorts and a bikini top. I am so burdened by my own thoughts that I am paying no heed to Jacob's until he remembers the almost kiss.

Wincing slightly I try to ignore it, keeping pace as I slam my knees forcefully against the bucket. I sense it, he is about to chastise me when a very poignant scent brings us both to an abrupt halt.

_Leeches_, we both think in unison as we drop our baggage and leap into the undergrowth of the woods, alongside of which we had been walking. I, smaller yet faster, lead the way with Jacob barreling down upon me, sounding mental alarms for any pack member who may be nearby; though none respond.

_Leah, go to Sam's and have him summon the pack,_ he instructs me, and I growl.

_No, you want him? You go get him. I'm on her trail better than you are. You're just following me. _He grunts, but does not stray. Following closely behind me, I feel him nip slightly at my heels as though trying to dog me into following his command. But as he is not alpha, I outright ignore him.

Crimson hair wildly decorates her fair features, entangled waves dancing like flames about her face. I snarl and leap through the air, wishing to sink my teeth into that tender throat, bringing her down to be ripped limb from limb. Naturally, however, my thoughtless pounce is of waste as she is gone long before I hit the ground. My feet stabilize themselves though she disrupts this with a swift kick that throws my body against a nearby tree. I grunt and shake myself off, rebounding instantly; watching as she dislodges Jacob with a similar kick. While she is occupied I try to pounce upon her back and land, though she wrenches her body around so quickly that my teeth lose their grip before I have hit her fully.

Clawing at her before I fall, I manage to rake over her skin; though some good that will do the undead, I suppose. Jacob has not gotten to his feet yet (she is far too fast) and I watch in horror as she moves toward him, a menacing laugh slipping past her lips. Then she suddenly twitches and changes her mind, sprinting away from us. Grunting I get to my feet again and take chase, leaving Jacob behind. She bolts toward the direction of the Canadian border and I pursue her, refusing to drop back from her wake. I can hear loud trucks roaring as I realize we are running in the woods parallel to a major highway, but I ignore this. I am so close to her, I can almost feel her beneath my paws.

Dizzily I leap again, this time making a direct impact with her. My body weight drops her to the ground before she realizes what is happening and she fumbles for a moment, though it does not last long. We somersault together but she ends up the dominant and breaks from me. She jumps and so do I, but she has me beat. We both land on the highway for a moment and then with one kick for which I am not prepared, she knocks me to the ground. She is gone before I realize it and I sway slightly before sitting back on my haunches, confused and discombobulated.

Had I not been so dizzy from the first two onslaughts, perhaps I may have stood a chance. But she is one of the most powerful leeches, so I have been told, and I have not yet been trained for such engagements as this. My speed was, as Jacob insinuated, used best for messages rather than beating bloodsuckers back to their damned graves.

Feeling my body make direct contact with the earth as I fall on my side I feel a sensation similar to nausea growing within my stomach. I try to get to my feet but stumble, turning just in time to see headlights and hear the blaring of a truck horn loudly burning my ears.

Then everything goes black.  
I smile; certain I am dying.  
_I love you…_


	11. Chapter 11

"Leah? Leah? Oh damnit Leah, no, this can't be happening…"

Pain; I feel it before I even attempt to move. My eyes open, their gaze incapable of focusing on the face that hovers over mind, but I recognize the voice and I am inclined to snarl.

"Sam, let go of me," is all I manage to say.

He ignores me, glancing over his shoulder at Paul and Seth. "Seth, go to your house, tell Sue to get a bed ready for her." I vaguely remember being close to Sam's house when we caught Victoria; though I do not remember _him_ being there. But I know we are not near his house anymore, as the nearby sounds of speeding cars and trucks is ringing in my ears. Sam's wooded cabin is nowhere near such sounds. Suddenly aware of my struggling arms and legs, I also do not recall being in human form at any point. As this thought processes I grow rigid, remembering precisely _why_ I had not been in human form to begin with – and it is then that I catch Paul's roaming eye.

"I am gonna kill you if you don't fuckin' look somewhere else," I growl menacingly and Sam glances down at me, then back at Paul. Giving him a scornful glare he grits his teeth.

"Make yourself useful and go find Jacob. Tell him to come back, that she's alive. God knows he is probably in Canada at this point, still hounding the bitch." Paul gives me one last lingering gaze then smirks and vanishes into the woods.

"I am gonna kill him," I whisper softly, eyes closing in a vain attempt to stop the world from spinning so rapidly. I feel Sam's warm hand against my forehead and though I do not realize it now, it is later that I will recall the lack of butterflies that once were instigated by a mere glance, let along caress, from Sam.

He smiles; I do not see it, but hear it in his voice. "Right now, let's get you home to rest. I would say she broke a few bones but you'll heal in two hours tops. She forgets we are not fragile like humans." This makes sense as to why I am in pain, I suppose; though I cannot completely remember what happened. I remember Victoria, I remember Jacob… and now Sam. The rest is so vague. "I wish I had water," he apologizes suddenly and I shake my head – or, try to, which only makes me wince and groan.

"No, don't worry about it," I mumble. "I'm great." He rolls his eyes – again, unseen by me as my eyes have yet to open. I have not seen my own body, but he can see how I am contorted inhumanly; she had mislead me into believing we would be safe, and she landed in the path of a speeding truck. Swiftly she had moved; I had not been so lucky, falling in its direct path. "How bad is it?" I finally ask as the memories return.

"Well," he begins, "that truck is pretty wrecked up. Driver swears he hit a monster grizzly bear, so there is a big hunt for the bear." He is laughing now, and I force a smile. Pretty funny, I suppose. "His truck nailed you then swerved and fell on its left side. He isn't injured, just shook up quite a bit. People wouldn't believe him if the truck didn't have evidence of fur and a dent the size of a werewolf impounded into it." More joking, but I cannot laugh or smile anymore; it hurts so badly, though I do feel tingling evidence of healing. "Jacob had been following you and since it was such a mess of chaos and screaming he managed to grab you and help you vanish before the driver came to and saw what happened. Thankfully nobody else was on the scene then. He brought you here, where you are now; we are a mile or two away from the scene of the accident." He then trots away to his truck, which I now see a few yards away from me, returning with a blanket. "Sorry," he apologizes, but I shake my head, wanting to hear the rest. "Apparently you phased back upon impact or something, because Jake found you like you are now. But there is fur on the truck so unless he hit a bear and you, I would say that the hit made you return to human form. Interesting add-on." My eyes roll – it seems painful, though it is just my mind imagining that. "Anyway, I had just phased to start late afternoon patrol when I heard Jacob screaming about Victoria. You were already up on the highway so I got in my truck and had the rest follow in wolf form. Jacob was sure you were dead so he followed Victoria again, trailing her until he can kill her or something. Paul will get him."

My mind whirls with all this new information that is detailed to me; I don't remember much, but it makes slightly sense I suppose. "Oh," I say, quiet for a moment. "So how long do I need to stay here?"

Silence as he thinks. "I don't want to drive you yet, because you would have to lie in the back and I don't want you back there alone. If someone comes back we can carry you into the bed but that might hurt since you're a big mangled right now kid." I want to shrug or demand that he takes me home, but I don't. I think back to Jake – and the almost kiss – and I shudder slightly. "You okay?" he asks, suddenly concerned.

Nodding, I manage to speak again. "Yeah, sure. D'ya think Jake got her? Or worse…?"

His shaking head silences me. "He'll be fine, back soon I bet. Don't worry your pretty little head about it Lee-lee."

It is the first time he has called me that since he broke up with me. For a moment I am suspended again, hanging from space in this ethereal position between heaven and earth. Then I manage to shake my head. "Sam, please never call me that again."

He looks stung, stunned by my words, but manages to nod. "Oh, sure, okay." Nothing. I sense the awkward tension but ignore it, letting my eyes close. Exhausted by pain and the strain of having pursued Victoria I let myself drift.

But all I can see in my mind is his face, and I pray to every god known to man that he is still alive. 


	12. Chapter 12

The sound of his voice brings me back to reality.

Stirring, I shift myself and manage to sit upright at the sound of my name being whispered again and again. "Leah?" I blink slightly, realizing I am now in the bed of Sam's truck and we are moving.

My gaze lands on Jake's worried expression and I roll my eyes. "No, sorry, Easter Bunny again. Try the next truck over," I growl, though my tone is slightly teasing. I am suddenly aware that the broken bones have seemed to repair during my slumber, and it is now dark.

"Your bitchiness can't even make me unhappy, because I'm so glad you're alive," he informs me. I am touched, somewhat, but I say nothing. "Sadly, though, so is the leech. I hate them, I really do. How do you feel? We were worried because you didn't wake up when we moved you."

Remembering that I'm naked, I glance down and pull the blanket up around my chest from where it had been sliding due to my upright position. Had his eyes not been on my breasts, I likely would have never noticed. Wonderful hot temperature and all. "I guess I was tired, probably all that healing I had to do and whatnot." I shrug, acting as though it is nothing. But I can see it in his eyes as they lift to mine; I truly don't like what I see. "What?"

"I saw it," he says accusingly, though his tone is soft. "You wanted to die. You thought that just before the truck hit you. You hated her, first, then thanked her for killing you. Then you said that you loved someone." His eyes glare at mine now. "You didn't picture a face when you said it, then the truck –" he stopped, incapable of continuing. "Who?"

Silence. What kind of interrogation is this? "Dude, I just woke up, I almost died and you're gonna nag me about who I love right before I think I'm gonna die?" I sound cold, perhaps too snappy, but it's agitating. I'm starving and tired and am not in the mood for his games. "Probably everyone. Yanno, I'm not this cold heartless bitch everyone thinks I am."

He glances away but I see it just before he does – pain. I have hurt him and I oddly feel remorse, wishing I could erase the words I had let slip past my lips. But they remain and can never be forgotten. His lack of response draws me to move closer to him, still holding the blanket around my body, as I sit beside him, shoulder to shoulder. "I'm sorry," I whisper softly. "I just – I don't know anymore, Jake."

His arm lifts as though he considers putting it around my shoulders, then it drops again; reconsidering. "Don't know what?" he asks, confusion flustering his features as he arches a brow, looking at me quizzically.

"Everything," is my answer. How can I really tell him what's on my mind when I don't know for certain myself? "I just – I was so afraid she killed you." Some response, but I cannot really figure out what more to say.

Laughter is his response. "Me?" he roars against the wind. "God Leah, I was certain you were dead, you were so limp in my arms and every bone was shattered. I was certain it was the end, Christ almighty." He is still laughing and I join in, glad that it no longer pains me to breathe or speak.

"Yeah, I guess that is stupid," I agree, "but when Sam said you went after her, I don't know. I panicked. Of course I couldn't move, let along phase to make sure you were alright. And he sends that idiot Paul after you, of all people." I groan, remembering his cool stare upon my naked frame. Absentmindedly I tighten the blanket around my body.

He sighs. "I saw all into his mind and gave him a lashing I had saved for Victoria," he responds. "He's so disgusting."

I arch my own brows, wanting to know more, but he does not elaborate and the expression on his face says more than enough; he does not want to talk about it. "Yeah, he is," I agree quietly. "Did they find the bear?"

Pausing, he looks at me like I have lost my mind. "Bear?"

"Yeah, the one that guy hit. You know, the enraged psychotic beastly bear that is probably rabid and whatnot."

In spite of himself he is laughing again, a sound that is somehow soothing to my ears. "Oh, no, the hunt continues," he declares. "Poor guy has no idea what hit him."

We are both chuckling at this thought and I turn my face toward his, smiling. "Why did you do it?"

He stops laughing and tilts his head. "Do what?"

"You know, chase Victoria. Why bother? She already had a head start and we all run about the same."

Considering this, he shrugs. "I don't know, my adrenaline was pumping so hard I was certain I would get her. I almost did too."

"But why bother? She wasn't staying in Forks," I press, curious to know his motive.

Biting his lip, he scowls. "She was running then doesn't mean she'd turn around and not come back." He is quiet as he thinks. "I was so angry, especially thinking she had – well – killed you. I wasn't thinking. I left your body there and bolted after her, determined to make her pay."

"Pay?"

Exhaling, he shakes his head. "Why do you care, Leah? I didn't get her, it's over. We're all alive."

"I want to know."

Growling, he looks embarrassed but finally admits it. "I wanted to make her pay for hurting you. Don't even ask why, I'll tell you. Everybody hurts you, and you've had too much pain. I was trying to protect you from that and failed. Thinking she had the final blow of hurting you just enraged me. You deserve better than that. I was pissed; I had to make her suffer for hurting you."

I am silent, contemplating this. I smile then, looking into his dark eyes that are boring into mine. "Well, thank you. That is perhaps the nicest thing anyone's told me in awhile."

We say nothing, sitting in the back of Sam's truck, nestled together in the warmth of werewolf lifestyle; my focus drifting from the blanket and upon his face. He leans in toward me and I inhale sharply but this time I do not pull away. A gentle bump of the truck brings our lips together and he gives me one gentle kiss, the break initiated by me. I can hear my mother calling me, and I offer him a weak smile. "Guess we're back already," I whisper to him, feeling the truck come to a halt at the end of my driveway. Jacob nods and hops from the truck, disappearing into the woods; I stare after him for but a moment before turning my gaze to my mom, sliding out of the bed and into her embrace.

As she pulls me into her arms, though, I cannot shake him from my mind.  
The warmth on my lips remains through the night, and as I later drift off to sleep, I find myself dreaming of _him._


End file.
